


Love Comes Slow

by Made_of_Stars



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Families of Choice, Family Feels, Father Figures, Friendship, Gen, Kid Daryl Dixon, Mystery, Past Child Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Protective Carol, Protective Rick, Protective Shane, Teen Daryl, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Young Daryl, canon pairings - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 09:20:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3845575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Made_of_Stars/pseuds/Made_of_Stars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thirteen-year-old Daryl Dixon is caught in the middle when the Greene farm is plagued by a series of strange and dangerous incidents that may be coincidence or something else entirely.  While dealing with his father’s recent death, an overbearing Shane and a constantly interfering and bickering group of fellow survivors the teenager must discover the secret behind the chaos before it escalates into something deadly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Comes Slow

Daryl was hanging around the front of the RV, kicking at the dirt and pacing and wishing Merle would just _be back_ already. He knew that the man wouldn't like that he was wasting time worrying when he could have been doing something useful. He would want Daryl to be doing something worthwhile like checking snares or cooking the last of the squirrel meat from earlier that week before it went bad...or to be doing _anything_ at all other than walking around in the midst of the group of irritating as fuck people (that's what Merle called them, anyway) that had settled in at the quarry, nibbling at his thumb and squinting into the distance in the vague hope that he would see signs of an approaching vehicle.

But it wasn't like Daryl hadn't obeyed Merle at all. He really had. He had done what he was told to do practically all day long. He had checked the snares (only the ones closest to camp too, only the ones he was allowed to check) earlier in the day after Merle had left with the others and he had cleaned out the tent they shared so that it wasn't as disgusting as it had been and he had even been thinking about getting started on prepping the meat when he had noticed the sun starting to set.

As soon as he had noticed the slowly darkening sky his whole body had tensed up and he had felt an intense burning in his eyes that he had been forced to blink back fiercely. Because he wasn't some pussy. Because he wasn't some little kid and he wasn't going to cry.

After he had managed to fight back the stinging in his eyes he had made his way over to the group, had found his way to the large Winnebago that acted as a sort of centerpiece, as a kind of home base for their entire camp and had begun to pace in front of it and to stare intently into the distance.

"You're welcome to go inside while you wait," said Dale in a calm yet cautious sort of voice. He was standing on top of the overlarge vehicle. He was on watch, if the binoculars hanging around his neck and the big gun he was holding were anything to judge by. "To get out of the heat."

Daryl considered denying that he was waiting, but ultimately shrugged and stopped chewing on his thumb. It wasn’t helping anyway. It wasn’t making him feel better. He could hear Sophia’s soft giggling coming from somewhere inside the monster of an automobile and Daryl figured she and the other kids were probably coloring or playing a board game or something useless and stupid like that. "Ain’t they supposed to be back by now?" he asked and Dale's face changed instantly; it seemed to visibly droop.

"Yes they are," piped up a voice from behind him and Daryl jumped. Then he immediately hoped that no one had seen him jump.

He watched as Amy, the owner of the unexpected voice, breezed by him and headed straight for Shane.

The former cop had just emerged from the trees and seemed to be walking the perimeter of the main camp area, maybe checking that things hadn't completely fallen apart while he had been in the woods doing whatever it was he had been doing. He was visibly sweating. His clothes looked rumpled.

Amy didn’t bother with a greeting. "They should be back by now," she commented in a tone like acid and Daryl saw the young woman's eyes rake over the large man in front of her.

She didn’t look pleased with what she saw. She looked angry and upset. "In case you hadn't noticed," she added.

And that was the moment Shane turned to her with a frown. "They'll be back." He said it like he knew something Amy didn’t, like it was a fact.

Daryl knew that the man wasn’t sure. There was no way anyone could be sure about anything anymore. Still, he couldn’t help but nod along a little bit as the man said it.

_They'll be back_ , he thought. _They have to be back._

"They're late," Amy went on. Her face was a mask of barely contained fury. "We should send out a...a search party or something."

Shane actually barked out a short, sharp sounding laugh. "A search party?" he asked. And then he ran a hand over his head and all the way to the back of his neck. He shook his head as if the young woman’s words were nonsense and surveyed his surroundings with his dark eyes. He stopped dead when he spotted Daryl standing there, watching them.

The thirteen-year-old locked eyes with the man for a handful of seconds before he turned away. He looked down at his boots and kicked at the hard packed dirt once more. He knew Shane and the others were probably shocked to see him out in the open, even if they weren’t going as far as saying anything about it. Unless the former cop insisted upon it, Merle rarely joined the group for meetings or anything else. And since no one had ever insisted on Daryl being a part of any meetings, other than when he was helping Merle with hunting or trapping, he rarely ventured far from their tent.

Shane huffed out a heavy breath of air and turned back to Amy. “Listen…” he started but it was like he didn’t quite know how to go on because he let it trail off into nothing.

Amy spoke up, her voice loud and sharp and obviously pissed off. “No, you listen. They were supposed to be back hours ago. This was just a quick get in and get out run. They obviously ran into trouble. We need to do something.”

Shane didn’t answer that time. He just stared at Amy without expression. It was almost like was staring through her. Oddly, his eyes darted towards the RV for a split second before darting away again to look at the blond. “This was a volunteer run. Everyone knew what they were getting into when they agreed to go. Everyone knew the risks.”

Amy’s face went red. “That’s my sister you’re talking about!” she shouted. “My _sister_.”

She waited, maybe expecting him to cave and say a search party sounded like a good idea after all. Maybe just waiting for him to say something… _anything_ so that she could have somebody to scream at, somebody to rage at.

“Quiet! I see something!” It was Dale, shouting from his perch atop the RV. The giggling inside of the vehicle stopped immediately. Shane stood and Amy straightened her stance as if readying for a fight. .

“What the hell is that?” Daryl asked no one in particular after listening to the steady, high pitched siren sound for a moment. The sound was very slowly getting louder, coming closer.

“I think it’s a car alarm,” said Amy after shooting Daryl a look he wasn’t able to read.

“It is a car alarm.” Shane tightened his grip on his weapon and his frown became more pronounced. “What the hell?” And in the space of a few seconds the former cop looked on edge and ready for a fight, too.

That made the thirteen-year-old nervous for no reason he could put his finger on. He turned away from the two formerly bickering campers and…waited.

It didn’t take long. Within minutes Glenn pulled up to the edge of camp in a sporty, red and black Dodge.

Shane cursed. Then he quickly made his way over to the still wailing car.

Daryl kept his distance while Shane yelled at Glenn about how stupid he was and about how the sound was going to draw the geeks to their camp. He listened and watched as Dale tried to butt in with a placating tone, and as the tall and slim guy he thought might be called Jim did something to the car that made the alarm cut off.

“What happened?” asked a frantic Amy when the distinct and abrupt lack of deafening sound seemed to shock Shane enough that he backed off a little.

And that’s when Daryl noticed what no one except maybe Amy had noticed before. Glenn wasn’t ok. He didn’t look hurt, but he wasn’t ok. He was breathing hard and fast, practically panting with what might have been panic. His face was red. He was shaking his head and kept glancing around camp.

“I told them,” he was saying. “I tried to tell them but…they didn’t really have a choice. We didn’t really have a choice.”

“What happened?” demanded Amy, who had moved so that she was right in his face. He finally seemed to notice her then, finally seemed to hear her. “Where are the others?”

“Kids,” came a soft voice, breaking the immediate silence that had fallen in anticipation of the young man’s answer to Amy’s question.

And for some reason, at that word Glenn’s eyes grew even wider. His head whipped around to the RV.

“Kids! I said no!”

Daryl, following everyone else’s gaze, turned to find Carol struggling to keep Sophia and Carl from stepping out the door of the Winnebago. She probably wasn’t sure if the coast was clear, and didn’t want them getting eaten if she could help it.

“Sorry,” chimed in both children and they disappeared from sight again, back into the depths of their temporary shelter along with a probably very angry Carol.

Annoyed at the interruption, Daryl turned back around just in time to catch it as Glenn’s eyes slid away from the RV’s door…and landed on him.

They stared at each other for a moment, but only a moment because the teenager couldn’t hold the intense gaze for long. He shifted instead to look at the others gathered around the now silent car and found several sets of eyes were darting back and forth between him and Glenn.

“Ok, what the hell happened out there?” cut in Shane. He stepped in front of the young man and caught his gaze. “Where are they?”

Glenn took a deep breath. “They’re coming,” he said. “They’re on their way. But…”

Before he could go on the distinct and welcome sound of an engine grabbed the group’s attention. A large, white truck revealed itself soon enough and parked close to the Dodge.

There was some clattering and chaos as a handful of people piled out of the truck. Amy ran to greet her sister Andrea, Eliza and Louis (who Daryl realized must have been standing somewhere behind him the entire time) squealed in delight and were swept up by their father, and finally a new man Daryl didn’t recognize made Shane freeze in place. The new man caused Carl to shout something and come barreling out of the RV despite Carol’s protests. Lori Grimes, who had emerged from the forest as the car alarm was blaring, let out an audible _gasp_.

But the thirteen-year-old wasn’t really paying attention to any of that. His heart was beating hard in his chest and his ears seemed to be ringing.

_Where’s Merle?_ he thought a split second before he started to move. He rushed to the truck, was angling so he could check around the back of it…and ran smack dab into T-Dog.

“Whoa,” said the man in a surprised huff of breath. Then he seemed to take in who was standing in front of him and he reached out, actually _reached out_ as if to grab at Daryl’s arm but the teen flinched away and backed off.

“Where is he?” he asked in a quiet voice. His throat was tight. It was hard to breathe and his eyes were welling up, he could feel them doing it and he wished he could stop it from happening. He wiped a hand across his face in a hasty, half-hearted attempt at getting rid of the tears and hiding how upset he was.

T-Dog seemed to freeze. Then, “Kid. You have to understand…” But he trailed off after that because Daryl had finally managed to see around him, to glance into the back of the truck and there was nothing there. No one there.

“Where is he?” he asked again.

T-Dog opened and closed his mouth a few times, shook his head. He looked up and seemed to focus on something behind Daryl for a brief moment, before trying again. “I…”

Nothing. The man wasn’t telling him anything. He was just sputtering and looking sad and stupid and Daryl _hated_ him. He hated the man so, so much.

“Where is he? Where’s my _dad_!” It came out more like a shriek than a threatening demand but Daryl couldn’t help it. He didn’t care. Because he wanted Merle. He wanted him now. Where was he? Why wasn’t he here?

“I’m sorry, son.” It came from behind him. Daryl spun and saw the new man standing there. He looked very tired, but also determined. Shane was behind him. The former cop looked shell shocked. In-between glances at Daryl he kept staring at the back of the man’s neck, his mouth a little agape and his expression disbelieving.

“There was nothing we could do. He’s gone.”

“Who the hell are _you_?” he hissed out. He didn’t care who the man was. Not even a little bit. But he was trying to stall, trying to ignore what he was being told.

“I’m Rick Grimes. And you’re Daryl, right? Glenn told me about you. He told me Merle had a son.”

When the teenager said nothing in reply to that he stepped a little closer. He put his hands out. They were palm forward like he was surrendering, or maybe like he was trying to appear non-threatening.

Vaguely, Daryl noted that Rick Grimes was wearing a uniform. There was a shiny, gold badge pinned to his uniform.

“He’s gone, son. I’m sorry but he’s gone.”

“Rick-“ began a startled sounding T-Dog from behind him and Glenn let out a strange sound of what sounded like protest at that same moment. But the new guy spoke again, cut them off before they could get started.

“He got bit. He’s gone.”

A red haze seemed to fall over the world then, and Daryl couldn’t hear anymore. He couldn’t think. He let out something between a sob and an agonizing, animal growl. Then he charged Rick.

He balled his hands into fists and started hitting, started shouting things in-between his hiccups and angry growls (he called the man a damn liar, demanded they go find his dad, called them all cowards, called them all killers).

Daryl wasn’t sure how long he went on like that before Rick grabbed at his wrists to restrain him, to stop his hitting. The man shushed him, tried to make him be still.

The teen tried to wrench away from the man’s grip. When that didn’t work he kicked instead, caught the man with the blue eyes in the shin with his boot and with a startled curse he was released.

“Hey!” shouted Shane as Daryl passed him, as the teen hurried away from the clearing. Away from the stares of the others. Maybe he would disappear into the woods. Maybe he would head for the water. “Where you going?” the man asked and he caught the thirteen-year-old around the middle as he passed.

Then the large man maneuvered him into a hold with no give at all. And Daryl couldn’t move. He couldn’t escape. He struggled for a long moment, wild and violent and so damn mad.

When that didn’t work, when he had exhausted himself, he hung his head and started to cry.

Glenn spoke up. “I told you all,” he said. “I told you we couldn’t just-”

“Glenn,” snapped Rick.

The young man stopped for only a second before going on. “I told you he had a kid,” he finished.

In a contrast to Shane’s punishing and impersonal grip, Rick kneeled in front of Daryl and tried to calm him. Told him it would be ‘ok'.

But Daryl knew that was a lie. Because it wasn’t ok. Because it would never be ok again.


End file.
